


Just a Taste

by IgnobleBard



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mirkwood, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 00:23:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4725782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IgnobleBard/pseuds/IgnobleBard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas is forced to discipline Elros for dereliction of duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Taste

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyGaGalion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGaGalion/gifts).



> Written as a pinch hit for OohLaGalion aka Nicevenn for the 2015 Ardor in August Swap.
> 
> Request:  
> Legolas/Elros the Guard or Legolas/Galion or Legolas/Feren. I want to see Leggy get some action at home, and not from daddy. (But I will take Legolas/Thranduil if the other pairings really don't appeal.)  
> I'll just list what I like. Feel free to pick and choose: Genres: fluff, flangst, hurt/comfort, light humor. Tropes/clichés/etc.: UST, pining, matchmaking, bets & wagers, obliviousness, forced bed sharing/forced proximity, virginity, inexperience, shyness, banter, party games, drunkenness, drunken confessions, soul bonding. Kinks: hand jobs, blow jobs, frottage, unwilling/embarrassed arousal, comeplay, facials, biting, finger sucking, dirty talk, kissing (lots of it), clumsy/awkward sex, desperate/intense sex, rough sex, clothed or semi-clothed sex, lighthearted power play, light bondage, semi-public sex, armor/uniforms.  
> DOES NOT WANT:  
> Modern AU, death, BDSM, infidelity, established relationship, cross-dressing, domineering Thranduil, slutty Legolas, third-party voyeurism POV, ritual sex, dancing, tattoos, piercings, sailing, melancholy, unhappy ending

“Come, Elros, the new shipment is in. Just a little taste.”

“I may turn a blind eye to the fact that you always order an extra two bottles of wine from Lake Town without logging it in the inventory, but that doesn’t mean I’ll partake of your larceny, Galion. If the king ever finds out. . .”

“Oh, posh, our ill-tempered king has bigger game to skin. I never take the finest vintages, only the lowly table wines. But there is nothing like Dorwinion, no matter how mean its parentage.”

Elros looked around furtively. “Suppose someone else comes down here?”

“Who? Who ever disturbs you at your rounds? Will you be sought for to open a vault or cell door? There is no one in the dungeons and until everyone turns in no reason to lock the tunnels.”

Elros’ resolve was beginning to crumble. “It is long since I had Dorwinion. I recall the experience as quite pleasant,” he said with a wistful gleam in his eye.

“Then join me. What can a pleasant experience hurt?”

Elros chuckled. “Very well, but just half a glass. I still need to make rounds later. He sat at a table just off the store room and Galion produced two large flagons. He filled his own well but gave Elros the requested half.

“Elros took a sip, heaving a big sigh of satisfaction. “Ai, that is wonderful. I had nearly forgotten.”

“How about a game of stones while we take our break?” Galion suggested.

Elros took another sip of wine, a delightful warmth spreading through his belly and outward to his limbs. Galion had some amazingly good ideas. He had another quick nip before setting up the game table. They played and drank for a time until he won the game in a last minute rout. He went to take a celebratory swallow of wine only to discover his flagon empty.

“A little more, please, my dear Galion,” he said placing his flagon before him with a thump.

“With pleasure, my dear Elros,” Galion replied, filling the vessel almost to the brim.

They continued to drink and play through their next flagon until Galion had captured all Elros’ stones.

“Want to make the next one more interesting?” he asked, his eyes a bit glassy.

“What did you have in mind?”

“For every stone captured, the loosher has to take off an ar-article of clothing,” Galion said. He was waggling his finger in front of Elros’ face to make his point. Elros watched the finger move back and forth with intent focus, his head swaying slightly.

He found himself considering Galion in a whole new light. The man might be only a butler to the rest of the household, and he was very old, older than the king himself, but he was a strikingly handsome man. Elros had always thought so. And so generous with his wine too.

“Yes, by Eru,” that’s a capital idea!” he cried, drinking down half his wine.

They started a new game but Elros was finding it difficult to concentrate. Galion captured him easily.

“Time to pay up,” Galion said, holding out his hand expectantly.

Elros took the heavy keyring hanging from his belt and tried to hang it on Galion’s fingers. He missed by a good inch and the keys hit the table with a crash. Both put their fingers to their lips at the same time. “Shh!” they hissed in unison, then broke into gales of laughter much louder than the keys had been.

Elros continued to laugh until Galion grasped him by the shoulder and gave him a shake. “Lower your voish!” he said in a loud stage whisper, lowering his hand for visual emphasis.

“How’s this?” Elros asked in a deep baritone, and both broke into laughter again.

When they got themselves under control Galion looked at the keyring as though noticing it for the first time. That’s not fair, that’s not closh,” he said accusingly.

“I was wearing them,” Elros pointed out.

“Come on, Elrosh, give up something elsh.”

Elros snorted and took off his belt. “Does this satisfy?” he asked, laying it on the table with an exaggerated flourish.

Galion replied with a mighty belch that had them both laughing again.

They continued to play, each capturing a stone here or there and each taking off another piece of clothing, little heeding that they were grabbing stones from each other almost randomly, no longer even following the game’s rules.

Elros was wearing only his tunic and Galion only his trousers when they both reached for a stone at the same time and their hands touched. They looked into each other’s rheumy eyes for a long moment then grabbed each other around the neck and kissed across the table, their wine-laced tongues sparring heatedly. They tried to move closer but the table was in the way, and in their drunken state they half stood, Galion trying to find the laces on Elros’ tunic and Elros pawing desperately at Galion’s bare chest. Elros reached between them and threw the table aside. They pressed against each other their kiss continuing unabated.

Galion’s hand slipped down to cup Elros’ balls while Elros pressed his hand to the thick bulge in Galion’s trousers. They pushed against each other with a quick, desperate rhythm when suddenly a voice rang out, echoing off the stone walls with a clap of doom.

“What is going on here?”

The two sprang apart, flushed, aroused, and frightened as Legolas appeared from the stairs.

“My lord, Legolas,” Galion said, bowing low. He lost his balance and did a perfect somersault, landing on his back in front of his prince with a deepening stain on the front of his pants while Elros tried to tug his tunic down over his erection with little success.

“My lord,” Elros murmured.

Legolas helped Galion to his feet, steadying him until he was able to stand, somewhat wobbly, on his own.

“Go to your rooms, Galion,” Legolas said sternly. “The king will deal with you in the morning.”

“Yes, my lord,” Galion muttered thickly, staggering up the steps, one hand on his head the other on his crotch.

“As for you,” Legolas said, turning to Elros, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

Elros was flushed with wine and embarrassment but his erection did not diminish in the slightest, despite a sudden jolt of sobriety. “That I am too drunk on your father’s wine to explain myself, my lord,” he said. 

Legolas took in the sorry state of the man then walked over and picked up the empty wine bottle. “Hmm, not from the king’s collection. That’s a blessing anyway. Part of the new shipment then?”

“Yes, my lord,” Elros said.

Legolas came back to stand in front of him. “I know you considered your role as Master of the Keys to be a demotion when you were wounded in that orc attack and had to be reassigned, but the job is a vital one. I put your name forward for this position myself. What will my father say when I tell him of this? It is not just your reputation on the line. I am Guard Commander and you are my charge. This is my responsibility.”

Elros hung his head. “I did not mean to disgrace myself or my Commander in this manner, I assure you. I gave in to temptation and there is no excuse. I am sorry. I will accept any punishment you and your father deem fit.” He squared his shoulders and looked up into his lord’s eyes.

Legolas softened to see his contrition and obvious humiliation. He gave Elros a sympathetic look. “It is not so easy outside the patrols, is it?” he said. “Living rough in the forest a man might seek a warrior’s bond, but within the palace walls. . .” he trailed off.

Elros nodded, blinking back tears. “No, it is not, my lord. Especially when the object of one’s desire. . .” he stopped abruptly and dropped his gaze.

A warm hand rested on his shoulder. “It’s not easy being a prince either, you know, especially when the object of one’s desire is beneath your station.”

“My lord?” Elros said. He chanced another look at Legolas to find him flushed as though he had been the one getting drunk on the king’s Dorwinion. He had been at the feast earlier so perhaps he had been.

“Now is a poor time for confessions,” Legolas replied, “and I too have had more wine than I should have tonight. Let me get you to bed. I will get someone to clean up down here and do your rounds. We will discuss this again in the morning when we both have clearer heads.”

Elros nodded. Legolas helped him get into his pants then took him through a little used tunnel to the guard suite. He told the guard on duty in the tunnels about the clean up and schedule change then helped Elros into his rooms, sitting him on the edge of his bed. He poured some water in the basin and wet a cloth, washing Elros’ neck and face.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes, my lord, thank you.”

Legolas paused for a moment. “Look, I see no reason to bring the king into this. You have served well for many long years. I’ll work out a punishment for you and that will be the end of the matter, if this sort of indiscretion is not repeated. Agreed?”

“Thank you, my lord. That is most kind.”

“Now, as to your punishment,” Legolas said thoughtfully. “I know you trained as a warrior so any physical discipline is out of the question.”

Elros breathed a sigh of relief. He would not wish to be flogged or caned in front of the other guards as this was a common punishment for dereliction of duty.

“No, I think I have a better idea,” Legolas said, taking off his belt.

Elros’ eyes grew wide. “I thought you said no physical punishment, my lord,” he said shakily.

Legolas laughed lightly. “Well, perhaps a little, but not in the way you think.”

He took Elros’ hands and bound his wrists with the belt then had him lay back on the bed and bound the belt to the headboard. Elros’ tunic inched up over his navel, his hard cock nodding its obeisance to his prince.

My lord, surely you don’t mean. . .” Elros found he could not complete the sentence. His mouth was dry but his stomach fluttered with anticipation.

“I think it’s time we dropped the formalities, don’t you?” he teased. Elros nodded but said nothing. He could not bring himself to use the prince’s name, sacred as it was to him. Legolas divested himself of his clothing in haste and climbed onto the bed, taking Elros’ lips in fierce kiss.

Elros responded with hunger, boldly sucking on his prince’s tongue until they were breathless. Yet both were unwilling to pull away and they did not part until the lack of oxygen had them lightheaded. They gasped together, then went back for more, and for a time were content just to kiss and nip at each other’s lips letting their arousal build with delicious languor.

Then Legolas pushed the damp tunic up to Elros’ neck and began to feast upon his chest and tight nipples with wet kisses and painfully sweet love bites that had Elros moaning helplessly.

Hard cocks pushed against taut bellies, hips thrust to a slow steady rhythm that Legolas allowed for a time, reveled in even, but as he felt Elros’ control weaken he rose to his hands and knees, abruptly breaking their contact.

Elros raised his head slightly, looking into his eyes. “What are you. . .? Oh, no, please!” he cried, realizing too late what his punishment would be.

The mischievous gleam in Legolas’ gaze was almost enough to undo him. Almost. He groaned and tugged at the belt but that knot was not coming undone, which was no surprise. He and Legolas had trained together in their youth and the prince knew how to secure a bond.

Legolas slid his body down and leaned over slowly, taking Elros’ cock in his mouth. He held just the head between his lips, tickling his tongue along the sensitive lip of foreskin. Elros gasped, his breathing wild and desperate. Legolas released him a bare instant before he came, fondling his thigh, watching him writhe in the dual frustrations of denial and of his inability to touch, to stroke, the prince’s lithe form in return.

For the next two hours Legolas kept him skillfully, and maddeningly, on the edge of release until Elros was moaning his name and begging for an end to his torment. In the end his prince took pity on him and raised Elros’ legs. He placed them over his shoulders, gathering a bountiful measure of prerelease from Elros’ belly to slick himself up before sliding into him with implacable determination.

The torment of waiting did not belong to Elros alone and Legolas pounded into him hard and fast, taking his own rough pleasure. The ending was brief but intense, their cries echoing back to them from the stone walls even after they came. Legolas collapsed next to a glazed-eyed Elros, both drawing great draughts of air into their lungs until they were able to speak again.

Legolas tugged the knot loose, freeing his hands, and Elros lowered his arms stiffly to pull Legolas into a warm, satisfied embrace.

“That is both the worst, and the best, punishment I have ever received,” Elros said breathlessly. “Thank you for your mercy. . . Legolas.” He forced himself to say the name at last and it tasted like honey on his tongue.

“I hope you have learned your lesson,” Legolas said with mock severity.

“Oh, I have indeed,” Elros said. “If ever I am tempted to steal the king’s wine and have wanton sex again, I will report directly to you for punishment.”

“Exactly,” Legolas said with a laugh. 

“Perhaps the point needs a bit more emphasis,” Elros said, blushing shyly.

Legolas raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps, but if you think the punishment is sweet, let me give you a taste of the award for outstanding service.” He pulled the sodden tunic off Elros and took him in his arms. No commendation the guard had ever received from a commander was so sweet or so enduring.


End file.
